


Like A Child

by Augustus



Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-26
Updated: 2003-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-11 08:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3320474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Augustus/pseuds/Augustus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick accidentally wishes on a shooting star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Stereotypical characterisation is purely intentional ^_~

Nick glared up at the night sky as he leant against their courtesy limousine, impatiently tapping his fingers against the duco as he waited for AJ to finish his cigarette. "Hurry up," he snapped finally. "We'll be late for our last interview."

AJ smiled benignly and inhaled in a particularly leisurely manner. "Anxious to get away from here, are you?"

"No." Nick frowned and turned his back on AJ, making a great show of examining the curve of the car's side mirror. 

"You're not upset by those questions then?" AJ's smile doubled in size as he watched Nick's shoulders become rigid, the change obvious even beneath the stiff, new fabric of his publicist-chosen jacket. "About your weight?"

Nick's mouth twitched involuntarily. "No," he repeated petulantly, although he knew full well that AJ wouldn't believe a word of it. "I don't care."

"'Course not." AJ let the cigarette drop from his fingers, grinding it beneath the heel of his boot until the last strands of tobacco formed a dirty halo around the flattened filter. "Which is why you refused to say anything for the rest of the interview."

"Whatever." Nick moved to run a hand through his hair, remembering just in time that doing so would disarrange the carefully bleached and fashioned spikes. "Shut up and get in the car, McLean."

AJ grinned up at him as he slid past to open the limousine door, leaning inwards so that his face was only inches from Nick's. "PMS?" he asked lightly, eyes wide and innocent, then quickly ducked inside and into the safety of Howie's arms before Nick could retaliate. 

Nick kicked the closest of the car's tyres, wishing that he could do the same to AJ without it causing an international scandal. "I'm sick of interviews," he muttered grumpily, returning his eyes to the clear sky above him. "I'm sick of being famous and I'm sick of being picked on. I wish we were all kids again; then I wouldn't have to go through all this crap." He watched as a shooting star trailed a path of light towards the horizon, then pasted his best scowl onto his face and followed AJ into the car.


	2. Morning

Normally Howie would wake to the sound of Kevin banging on their hotel room door or the significantly more pleasant sensation of AJ's bored and wandering hands. When he awoke slowly and naturally, therefore, he knew instantly that something very peculiar was going on. Such thoughts were quickly confirmed when he turned to curl an arm around AJ and found himself face to face with a very cross looking seven-year-old. 

"What have you done with D?" the kid asked, lower lip jutting out in indignation. 

"I am D," Howie protested, his voice emerging from his mouth at an even higher pitch than usual. "Who the hell are you?"

"What the fuck?" came the elaborate response as, in a flurry of bedclothes, the speaker slid out of the bed and walked, completely naked, over to the full length mirror at the far end of the hotel room.

Howie clapped a hand over his eyes. "Geez!" he exclaimed in horror. "Put some clothes on! If the press walked in right now..."

Slowly, the child turned around, looking at Howie with incredibly large eyes. "I'm a fucking kid," he muttered. "And you..." He returned to the bed, leaning over Howie and peering intently into his face. "D?"

Beginning to worry a little about the sanity of his former bedmate, Howie stared right back. And realised that there was something awfully familiar about the face that hovered above him. "AJ?"

"Got it in one."

"But you're a..."

"Kid," AJ finished. "I hate to break it to you, Howie, but it seems the condition's contagious. You'll be lucky if you're pushing eight right now. And your hair!"

Horrified, Howie raised a tremulous hand to his head as he took his turn at the mirror, mouth dropping open in horror as he regarded his seven-year-old body and eighties-cool quiff. "What's going on, Aje?" he asked, turning back to face his boyfriend. "This is seriously freaky shit."

"No idea." AJ slid back beneath the sheets, indicating for Howie to join him. "But I bet it has something to do with the blond."

"Nick?" Howie did as requested, reclaiming his place in the bed beside AJ, self-consciously holding up his too-big boxer shorts. "I think this is a little beyond his sphere of irritation."

"Maybe," AJ shrugged, non-committal. Lifting the sheets, he looked down at himself. "I guess a little wake up sex is out of the question..." Frowning, he slipped an inquisitive hand beneath the covers. "Although, perhaps..."

"AJ!" Howie exclaimed, horrified. "You're like... seven!"

"So?" AJ seemed genuinely unconcerned. "So are you."

"That's not the point. It'd be wrong." Howie frowned. "And probably impossible."

"True." Sighing, AJ abandoned his examination and wrapped himself around Howie instead, wriggling wildly as he made himself comfortable.

"Ow!" Howie yelped as AJ's elbow struck him neatly between the ribs. "You're all bones."

"What's new?" AJ grinned, his smile surprisingly innocent once surrounded by childish features. "You're the one who's changed the most. Here," he continued, prodding Howie in the chest. "And here..." He ran a finger down Howie's left arm before continuing his hand's downward descent. "And we can't forget..."

Howie yelped. "Stop it," he protested, perhaps with a little less conviction than he'd intended. "Why don't you make the most of Kevin's absence and go back to sleep?"

"Don't you love me as a kid?" AJ asked, his tone light but his eyes watchful. 

"'Course I do. Now shut up and sleep."

A smile lifting the corners of his mouth, AJ closed his eyes and curled a little closer into Howie's arms. "When we wake up we'd better be grown ups again," he muttered drowsily. "There are things I want to do to you..."

"I'll hold you to it," Howie replied, but AJ was already asleep. 

* * *

Brian woke to the sound of his alarm, groaning wordlessly as he shot out an arm to put a stop to the annoyingly repetitive tone. After a couple of ineffective swipes at thin air, he eventually wriggled to the very edge of his bed, finally grasping the recalcitrant clock. 

"That's funny," he muttered, as the insistent ringing faded into stark silence. "I could have sworn that my arms were longer when I went to sleep last night..."

Shrugging, he rolled back over, staring up at the beige ceiling above him as he told himself that a couple of extra minutes in bed wouldn't make too much difference to Kevin's careful scheduling. He yawned widely, eyes following a faint crack from one side of the room to the other. Stretching, he reached out to clutch the sides of the mattress - and frowned when his hands clutched only at the crumpled covers to each side. The last dregs of sleep flew from his mind as he sat up abruptly, eyes wide and hair tousled.

Sliding out of bed, it became quickly obvious to Brian that his legs appeared to have shrunk as well. He wasn't sure why his limbs were behaving so strangely, but felt sure that everything would seem a lot more normal after a hot shower to clear his head.

Gathering his clothes from the suitcase beside his bed, Brian yawned again before heading towards the ensuite. As he glanced into the bathroom mirror, however, his carefully selected outfit fell to the tiled floor, collecting in untidy folds around his feet as he gaped at his reflection. He felt like he was staring at a lifesized photograph from his childhood. Reaching into the shower, he turned on the taps and stepped beneath the stream, hoping that the water would wash away the overnight transformation.

* * *

When the ringing of his telephone awoke him, Kevin was curled tightly around his pillow, thumb firmly planted in his mouth. He answered on the fourth ring, blinking in an attempt to clear the sleep from his eyes.

"This is your wake-up call, Mister Richardson," came the exceedingly chirpy voice at the other end of the line. "It's eight-thirty am."

"Oh hell," Kevin groaned, immediately feeling a lot more awake. "I must have slept through my alarm."

"Mister Richardson?" The caller remained on the line longer than the usual cheery greeting. "Are you okay? You sound rather... peculiar."

Mentally cursing the curiosity of hotel staff when he was already running late, Kevin bade the disconnected voice an abrupt farewell and returned the telephone to his bedside table.

Groaning, he swung his legs out of bed - and blinked in surprise when they didn't quite reach the floor.

"What the...?" he muttered, dropping to the floor and making his way over to the mirror. His mouth dropped open as he stared at his reflection, eyes travelling over the pyjama-clad form of the seven-year-old standing before him. 

"Well, this has never happened before," he mused. "I wonder if it was something I ate."

Rubbing his eyes briskly, he turned away from the mirror for a moment and took a deep breath, believing that if he composed himself thoroughly enough he might well return to his adult state by strength of will alone. Returning his gaze to the mirror, however, he realised that it was not going to be that easy. His pyjamas continued to hang from his limbs in crumpled and striped folds and his chin was lacking the goatee that had, quite definitely, been there the night before.

Brows dropping into a frown, he turned towards the door and bellowed, "Nick! What the hell have you done this time?"

* * *

Not what one would call a morning person, Nick was in the bathroom and standing in front of the mirror with glazed eyes before he noticed that anything was wrong. Even then, it took a moment for his sleep-hazy mind to register the rather obvious differences in his reflection. "Oh, for God's sake," he muttered angrily, when he finally realised that the seven-year-old child he was staring at in confusion was actually himself. "I wasn't being serious."

Backing away in horror, Nick was greeted with a broader view of his much-younger self. Turning to take in his profile, his lips slowly stretched into a wide smile. "Fuck me, I'm skinny!" he laughed, then walked straight back into the bedroom to order room service.


	3. Reality

"What are we going to say?" Kevin groaned. "They're expecting the Backstreet Boys, not a handful of under-tens."

"Who cares?" Shrugging, AJ continued to tickle Howie, making him squeal girlishly by digging skilled fingers into the hollows of his waist. "That's their problem, not ours."

Kevin frowned. "You're not taking this at all seriously, are you?"

"We're little kids, what's serious about that?" Nick sat curled beneath Brian's arm, concentrating intensely on the Game Boy in his hands.

"We're not kids," Kevin corrected him. "We just look like we are."

"Same thing." 

"It's not the same thing at all." Kevin began to pace, glad that they'd chosen AJ and Howie's bedroom to meet in, so that there was actually some free floor space to walk upon. "If we were really kids, we wouldn't have an important interview to go to."

"Aaron's a kid," Nick pointed out, "and he has to go to magazine interviews."

"You do realise he's older than you now," Brian teased.

"Only physically," Nick was quick to argue. "Mentally, I'm still eight years older."

AJ grinned. "That's debatable." 

Howie gave him a warning look and AJ closed his mouth, quickly distracted by Howie's warm arm around his back.

"I'm serious, guys." The corner of Kevin's mouth was beginning to twitch.

"Hey, it's not my fault that we're all seven again," AJ grumbled. "Haven't we already agreed that it's all the blond's fault?"

"I get the blame for everything," Nick pouted, swearing under his breath as the distraction caused him to die on screen.

"Well," Brian began slowly, "if you hadn't wished on that shooting star, it'd be likely that we wouldn't be having this conversation right now."

"You never know." Grumpily, Nick cast his Game Boy to one side. "It could just be a coincidence."

"Or not," AJ contributed helpfully.

"We could pretend it's a publicity stunt." Howie changed the subject before world war three could begin. "Just turn up to the interview like this and let them make what they want of it."

"It's not very professional, though, is it?" Kevin rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.

"Neither is cancelling out on the interview," Howie shrugged. "Let's face it; if we cancel, they're just going to write whatever they want. This way, we'd still have a little bit of control."

"I'm still not sure." Unconvinced, Kevin ran a hand through his hair, his brows lowered in a worried frown.

"I hate to butt in." AJ looked as though he was about to jump right out of his skin with frustration. "But I really think we're all missing the fucking point here. Fuck the interview! We're little kids! Surely there are more important things to worry about."

"What? Like the fact that you didn't get to have sex with Howie this morning?" Nick asked, unimpressed.

Howie blushed. "I... uh... don't really think..."

AJ was less effected by Nick's bluntness. "Well, yeah," he replied, his eyes daring Nick to make something of it. "Among other things."

"I'm with AJ," Brian volunteered. "Does it really matter if we cancel our interview if we're going to be stuck looking like this for the rest of our lives?"

"This isn't going to last forever," Kevin said firmly, looking like he was trying to convince himself as well as his bandmates. 

"Nick had better hope not," AJ remarked lightly. "Because, if it is, the rest of his life isn't going to last very long at all..."

"If you weren't being such a prick to me, I never would have made that stupid wish," Nick argued. "Besides, how was I to know that it'd all turn into some sort of fucked up Disney movie? I hated Freaky Friday as a kid."

The others looked at him strangely. For a moment, he returned the looks easily, but then he dropped his eyes, his shoulders hunching over as he curled a little closer towards Brian's side.

"I think we should go to the interview," Howie said finally, breaking the tension. "I mean, what else are we going to do? Sit around and feel sorry for ourselves?"

Kevin stayed silent for a while, staring at the opposite wall in complete concentration. "Okay," he agreed, nodding at Howie. "We'll do it."

"I still think it's a waste of time." AJ grumbled, glaring across at Nick.

"I'm fine either way," Brian offered, shrugging.

Nick's opinion wasn't asked for and wasn't volunteered. While the others discussed the logistics of the decision, her remained silent, playing with the fabric of Brian's too-big tee shirt while Brian's hand traced reassuring circles on his shoulder.

"AJ'll get over it," Brian said quietly, as AJ and Kevin argued the point.

Nick burrowed into Brian's chest, unconvinced. "That's what you always say," he grumbled.

"He's just pissed 'cos you're a better looking kid than he is," Brian whispered into Nick's ear, grinning mischievously. 

Despite himself, Nick laughed. Wrapping his arms around Brian, he squeezed him tightly, pressing a wet kiss to his best friend's cheek before pulling away. Climbing to his feet, he stood, hands on hips, and looked expectantly at the others. "Well?" he asked finally. "Are we going to this interview or not?"

Kevin and AJ watched each other with narrowed eyes but, in the end, it was Howie who decided.

"We're going," he said quietly, and no one thought to disagree.

* * *

The magazine office was all mirrored windows and chromium lines, several stories high and as garish as you might expect from a business that thrived on printing lies and gossip about the subjects of teenaged girls' dreams. The reception foyer was airy and yellow, the buttery walls offset by furniture coloured in the latest shades of turquoise and maroon. 

"Swanky," AJ commented, as he tested out a luridly ergonomic chair.

"Hideous," Brian argued, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"I hope we're dressed up enough," Kevin added, drawing looks of bemusement from the other boys.

The most trusted of their security guards had been sent to retrieve some child-sized clothing for the band, albeit following a lengthy period of questioning and disbelief on his behalf. In the end, his knowledge of Nick had overcome all normal reasoning and he had begrudgingly accepted that, if anyone was likely to turn his friends into seven year olds, then it was Nick. He had returned with a surprising assortment of outfits, even managing to find a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles tee shirt for Nick. In comparison to their usual interview attire, there was no great difference beyond the obvious issue of size. If anything, they were dressed more appropriately, given that AJ's style had been forced to be toned down considerably, due to the limitations of children's clothing.

"I think we'll be fine, Kev," Howie offered. "It's Tigerbeat, not the Whitehouse."

As they waited, Nick moved about the room, occasionally picking up interesting objects so that he could examine them more closely. Reaching a door at the far end of the room, he was just contemplating whether to try the handle when it flew open, revealing a slim-faced woman with extremely big hair.

"And you are?" she asked, tone patronising, as she looked from Nick to his bandmates.

"We're the Backstreet Boys." Kevin's tone was bold as he returned her gaze evenly. "We're booked in for an interview this morning with Michael Bourke."

"Right..." Obviously not believing a word of it, she moved to stand behind the large reception desk.

"Check your list." Rising, AJ followed her. "We're on it."

"The Backstreet Boys are on it," she argued. "Not five children with too much time on their hands."

"We're the only Backstreet Boys you're going to get," Kevin replied calmly. "I suggest that you give Mr Bourke a call and let him know that we're waiting for him."

She stared dubiously for a moment before succumbing to Kevin's unwavering stare. Shaking her head in disbelief, she pressed a button on the telephone in front of her, leaning forward and speaking into it. "Michael, I have five children here claiming to be the Backstreet Boys," she said, a note of amusement in her voice. "I'm presuming this is some sort of contrivance on Jive's behalf."

An annoyed sigh preceded a bored, male voice. "You'd better send them in."

The woman turned to the group and shrugged. "Brave man." Turning, she headed back towards the door through which she had entered. "Follow me."


	4. Charade

Michael Bourke had the sort of thin, pale face that made an observer wonder whether it had ever seen more than an occasional glimpse of sunlight through an office window. As the boys entered his office, he stood and moved out from behind his desk, running one hand through his hair in a well-rehearsed gesture of perceived superiority. On the desk, a framed diploma replaced the traditional photo of wife and children, an ostentatious indication of education that seemed quite out of place in the office of a teenage magazine. It was impossible to determine Bourke's age; he might just as easily have been an old-looking twenty-five as a young-looking fifty. His smarmy expression, however, was not as easy to misconstrue.

Trying not to let his face betray the instant dislike he had felt upon seeing the man, Kevin smiled tightly as the journalist looked the group up and down.

"Publicity stunt, eh?" he said finally, one eyebrow raised, before gesturing to the battered leather sofas in front of him. "It would have been nice if somebody had thought to tell me, but..." He shrugged, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "I'm Michael Bourke."

He made a movement towards them, one hand slightly outstretched, before smiling and letting it drop back to his side. "I don't suppose there's really any need for formality," he said, shaking his head. "So, who's playing who?" He paused a moment to look intently at each of them in turn, before continuing. "No, wait," he said, his tone achingly patronising. "Let me guess."

Kevin and Brian exchanged an uneasy glance.

"You're Nick, obviously," Bourke began, pointing at the boy in question. "I could tell by the blond hair and vague expression. Good acting," he added begrudgingly.

Brian had to grab Kevin's arm to prevent him from punching the journalist in whichever body part he could reach.

"You've got light hair too, so I guess you're Brian," Bourke continued, heedless of the expression of annoyance on the face he was indicating. "And you seem to be the spokesman, so you must be Kevin..." Turning, he looked at AJ and Howie, a bemused smile making it's way onto his face. "You two have me stumped."

"He's Howie," AJ said, glaring at Bourke. "I'm AJ."

Bourke didn't seem particularly interested, returning to the chair behind his desk as he gestured for the boys to take a seat on one of the two sofas that lined the facing wall.

"We're sorry for any inconvenience," Kevin said as he took a seat on the closest sofa and flashed an almost imperceptible frown at Nick. "This was rather a last minute thing..."

"If you think it's bad, spare a thought for our girlfriends!" Brian joked, claiming the seat beside his cousin.

"I'm sure they must be thrilled." Bourke's cheerful tone was clearly counterfeit. He shuffled through a small stack of papers before finding the sheet he was ostentatiously searching for. Reaching across the table to switch on his recorder, he scanned the paper for a moment before turning to Nick, obviously keen to dispense with what little small talk he had acceded to. "In recent times..." He paused. "Nick, there's been a lot of talk recently about the possibility of you going solo. Do you feel as though you're starting to outgrow the Backstreet Boys?"

"I'll never outgrow the Backstreet Boys," Nick said quietly, the serious words seeming incongruous with the innocent expression on his face. "I'd like to try doing a solo CD one day, y'know, but that doesn't mean that I don't need these guys any more."

"But do you think things have changed? Let's face it, you've all grown up a lot since the group began," Bourke persisted. "Come on... we've all heard the official line. What do you really think?" His eyes trailed over Nick's seven year old form, perched on the arm of AJ and Howie's sofa. "Or, I guess," he corrected, starting to sound a little confused, "what do you think Nick really thinks?"

Realising the rarity of the opportunity he was being presented with, Nick shrugged, a slight smile twitching at the corners of his lips. "What Nick really thinks...?"

Kevin threw him a warning look. Ignoring it, Nick rearranged his position so that Kevin's expression was out of sight.

"I think Nick truly does need the other guys," Nick began. Howie reached up to give his knee a brief squeeze. "But," he continued, "I don't think the other guys fully realise that he's not fourteen any more." When Kevin didn't make any comment, Nick grew a little braver. "And of course, there are plenty of things about them that piss him off on a regular basis."

The interviewer blinked at the sound of the phrase emerging from such a young mouth, but leaned forward nonetheless, encouraged by Nick's answer. "That's more like it," he said, his tone thick with his eagerness to reach beyond the usual, interview responses. "What sort of things?"

Grinning, Nick glanced over his shoulder at Kevin, before returning his gaze to Bourke. "Like the way that Kevin is always nagging me to do things his way, for starters," he began, already forgetting to speak in the third person. "And the way that Brian doesn't have anywhere near as much time for me now that he has his grown-up relationship to worry about... And the way that AJ and Howie are so goddamn disgustingly romantic all of the ti-..." His voice trailed off, a sheepish grin settling upon his features as he realised that he'd gone a fraction too far.

"About their respective partners?" Bourke inquired, mercifully unsuspicious.

"Uh... yeah," Nick muttered, aware that it wasn't so much a lie as a matter of interpretation.

"I guess you all get annoyed at times..." Bourke prompted.

"Well, obviously, after all this time, we all know which buttons to push," Kevin began conciliatorily, obviously keen to return the interview to a more regular tone.

AJ had different ideas, though, jumping in with a quick, "Nick smells," before turning to smirk antagonistically at the accused.

"I do not!" Nick pouted. "Well... not all the time."

"AJ's a slut," Brian chipped in, telling himself that it was merely to support his best friend, but gaining an adverse pleasure from the uncharacteristic remark that turned the tips of his ears pink with guilt.

"Not any more," Howie said firmly, earning himself a tight hug.

"Howie thinks that everything AJ does is perfect," Nick muttered bitterly. "He has no idea."

"At least I don't still hold a grudge because my ex ended it with me ages ago and had the nerve to move on..."

"Oh yes?" Bourke jumped in, eyes flickering from AJ to Nick and then back again. "And that ex would be...?"

"No one important." Visibly sulking now, Nick slid back a little further on the arm of the sofa, pulling his knees up to his chest and glaring belligerently at AJ.

Kevin spoke before the situation could degenerate any further, directing his words towards the interviewer. "You'll have to excuse the others," he began, his voice calm but the strained look within his eyes betraying his concern. "They don't know what they're talking about."

"That's what you always say," AJ grumbled.

Bourke watched them argue, a bemused expression upon his face. "It seems there may be more tensions within the group than the Backstreet Boys are usually willing to admit to," he said bluntly. "Out of the mouth of babes, eh?"

"There are always tensions in relationships." Kevin tried again, glancing across at AJ as if to warn him to remain mute. "We're not perfect, but that doesn't mean there are problems within the group or that we're on the verge of breaking up."

"We're going to be together forever," Nick added from behind his knees.

The interviewer didn't look convinced, but obviously decided to move on anyway, perhaps satisfied already with the amount of out of the ordinary material he had on tape. "What about something a little less... controversial, then," he began. "I'd love it if you could all give me some feedback on your respective roles within the group. How you see each other; that sort of thing."

"Didn't we just answer that?" Nick looked confused.

"No." Bourke sighed. "At least, I don't think so."

"I know what you want." AJ's smile was bordering on patronising. "The usual stereotypes about how Kevin's the father of the group and Howie's the peacemaker..."

"...and Brian's wacky," Howie chipped in.

"...and Nick's the baby, while AJ's the lady killer," Brian concluded. "That just about covers it, doesn't it?"

"Well..." Bourke coughed, thrown.

"I don't see why I still have to be the baby," Nick complained. "I'm nineteen now."

"Yeah, but you're still immature." AJ ducked just in time to narrowly escape being toppled by Nick's annoyed shove, which had been aimed in the general vicinity of AJ's head.

"Look who's talking." Grabbing a cushion from behind his back, Brian tossed it at AJ, laughing when it accidentally hit Howie instead. "Sorry, D," he snickered, managing to sound entirely unrepentant.

"Guys," Kevin began warningly, only to be silenced by Howie's poorly directed retaliation.

"Ha!" Nick shouted, intensely victorious for a brief few seconds before the combined effort of pointing and laughing unbalanced him so much that he tumbled off the side of his sofa.

The room was silent for a moment. Then, one by one, the others all erupted in loud laughter.

"Fuck off," Nick muttered under his breath, earning him a shocked glance from Bourke as he untangled his limbs and sat up, gingerly rubbing one elbow.

"Perhaps we should say that Nick's the clumsy one," Howie suggested between giggles.

"And this coming from the guy who has a habit of falling off stage," Brian joked.

"Have you ever stopped to think that he might do it on purpose?" AJ asked loyally, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend in a show of possessiveness.

"I wish I could say that I did." Howie smiled sheepishly.

"I think that Nick's the impulsive one," Kevin said suddenly, drawing the conversation back a little closer to the original question. "He's always very enthusiastic about everything, but sometimes he forgets to think before acting on that enthusiasm."

Nick nodded warily. "I guess..."

"AJ's extremely sensitive," Kevin continued, "which sometimes comes out the wrong way. He's the one who's grown the most out of all of us, though."

AJ hid the beginnings of a blush in Howie's sweater, although he seemed quite pleased by Kevin's comment nonetheless.

"Brian's not so much 'wacky' as he is easygoing." Kevin smiled warmly at his cousin. "No matter what, he's the one who will keep our spirits up with a joke or a silly impression, or just by saying what we need to hear."

Brian grinned toothily, before patting the narrow strip of sofa between himself and Kevin, gesturing for Nick to join them. After a moment's hesitation, Nick did so, curling comfortably around Brian's body and resting his head on his best friend's shoulder.

"And Howie..." Kevin's voice trailed off and he paused for a moment before continuing. "Howie really is the peacemaker," he finished, shrugging.

"I'm boring," Howie offered, smiling sheepishly.

"Never," AJ whispered, his breath ticking Howie's ear.

"And what about Kevin?" Bourke looked at each of the others in turn.

"Kevin's a boring old man," Nick giggled, then hid his face in Brian's tee shirt.

"He doesn't look very old right now," Bourke pointed out.

"Yeah, but have you listened to him?" Nick's voice was muffled slightly, but his amusement was clear nonetheless.

"Thank you, Nick," Kevin muttered stiffly, not sure whether or not to be horribly offended.

"That's okay." 

Bored with hiding, Nick fidgeted restlessly for a while before getting to his feet and beginning to wander around the room, staring intently at the framed magazine covers that lined the office walls. 

"Hey! *NSYNC's on the front of this one!" he exclaimed, standing on tiptoes so that he could get a closer look. "Check out Lance's hair!"

Within a few seconds, AJ had joined him, laughing uproariously at the picture. "That's a terrible shot," he spluttered. "They all look like complete losers! Check out Timberlake's bleach job!"

"It's not that bad," Nick argued, but AJ just shook his head and returned to the sofa.

"I am so glad we don't share their stylist," he muttered. "Imagine having to go out of the house with a head like that."

The journalist continued, asking the standard questions about their rivalry with *NSYNC, but Nick soon tuned out completely, sick of the constant implications that the two groups should want to kill each other on sight. Instead, he focused his attention entirely on his inspection of the room.

In the far corner of the office stood a most intriguing bookcase, full of magazines, awards and dusty photographs. On the topmost shelf, a glittering trophy held pride of place, far more interesting than any of the other, brassy statuettes. Unfortunately, the trophy in question was at least a couple of feet beyond Nick's grasp.

"What's that for?" he asked, but Bourke was too busy trying to provoke some criticism of their fellow boyband to reply.

Nick stood for a moment, assessing the situation, before taking a firm hold of the shelf just above his head and climbing up to the first shelf above the ground. Encouraged by this initial success, he reached higher again, grasping the next shelf with both hands and leaning back so that he could raise the rest of his body to meet them.

As Nick paused to get his balance, there was a loud, prolonged creak. He had a moment to wonder whether climbing the bookcase had been such a good idea after all, before it slowly began toppling towards him.

"Oh shit!" he yelped, leaping back to the ground and running back to his former position between Brian and Kevin.

For a few seconds, the bookcase teetered dangerously, while Nick watched from between his fingers. Finally, however, it appeared to make up its mind, creaking once again before toppling to the ground with a conspicuous crash.

The others turned to Nick in almost perfect unison. "Oops," he offered, eyes wide.

Bourke looked to be speechless with surprise and anger, so Kevin spoke for him. "What the hell did you do to that bookcase?"

Nick pouted. "I always get blamed for everything," he whined.

Letting his head fall onto his desk, Bourke dropped his pen and sighed.


	5. Ice Cream

It was nice to walk along a busy street without drawing stares and hoards of autograph hunters. AJ and Howie could walk hand-in-hand, much to Nick's disgust, and none of them was required to pause every few steps to chat to a cluster of giggling fans. It helped that the weather was unusually mild for the season, meaning that they could enjoy the rare chance for fresh air without ending up windburnt and frostbitten and chilled to the bone. AJ was in his element, but even Kevin seemed to be enjoying his chance at anonymity, glancing into the windows of the stores they passed without any fear of causing a riot.

Nick stayed close to Brian's side, entertaining him with a constant flow of chatter about video games and television and the pictures of *NSYNC on the interviewer's walls. Brian listened quietly, interjecting occasionally when he thought that Nick was looking for a response. 

As they rounded a corner, something caught AJ's attention. "I need ice cream," he announced, dropping Howie's hand in order to run ahead to stare into the window of a crowded ice cream parlour.

"It's winter." Kevin watched him disapprovingly, hands firmly thrust into the pockets of his jeans. "You don't need ice cream in winter."

Nick frowned. "I want ice cream too," he agreed, completely ignoring Kevin's protestations. "Don't we get a treat, seeing as we were all so good in the interview?"

"Good?" Flabbergasted, Kevin completely forgot that he had intended to walk straight past the store without stopping, instead coming to a sudden halt right outside the door to the tempting establishment. A vein in his neck pulsated gently as he struggled to keep his tone even. "You insulted me, destroyed the studio, and generally acted like a spoilt child. What's 'good' about that?"

"I am a child." Poking his tongue out as though to confirm his statement, Nick turned to look at Howie, eyes wide. "You think we should get ice cream, don't you, Howie?"

Caught, Howie looked from one bandmate to the other, mouth twisting with the pressure of the conflict. "Um... ice cream would be nice..." he answered finally, giving Kevin an apologetic look.

His inspection of the store completed, AJ reattached himself to Howie's side. "'Course it would," he agreed, linking his fingers back through those of his boyfriend.

Annoyed, Kevin turned to his cousin in a final attempt to gain control of the situation. "You don't want ice cream, do you Brian?"

Brian shrugged sheepishly. "They have pistachio," he muttered, pointing to the list of flavours displayed on the store window. "You know that's my favourite."

"Fine!" Frustrated, Kevin threw his arms into the air in an immaculate show of resignation. "We'll get ice cream then! Let me guess: I'm supposed to be the one paying for it, am I?"

"Thanks for offering, bro," AJ grinned, before leading the way into the store, tugging Howie along behind him.

"How sweet," a passing, white-haired lady commented, looking down at the two boys' linked hands. "Are you brothers?"

"Nope. Lovers," AJ corrected her, smiling broadly as she hastened from the store, expression tight and horrified.

"I don't think you should be going around saying that sort of thing, AJ," Brian said quietly.

"Why not?" AJ didn't move his eyes from the list of flavours posted above the counter. "For once in our lives we don't have the press breathing down our necks. If I want to tell the world I love Howie, then I'm fucking well going to do so."

Beside him, Howie smiled slightly, squeezing AJ's hand a little tighter within his own. "I've no complaints," he said softly.

"Enough with the romance," Nick grumbled, tone a little strained, before stepping up to the counter. "I'll have a triple chocolate ice cream in a double wafer cone," he announced, eliciting another flicker from the vein in Kevin's neck."

"Same again," Howie added.

AJ and Brian ordered, the latter turning to his cousin once the first pistachio mouthful had been savoured. "Aren't you having one?" he asked.

Kevin looked torn for a moment before finally shrugging in resignation. "If you insist," he muttered, then turned to order the largest ice cream on the menu. 

AJ glared at him accusatively. "I thought it was too cold for ice cream in winter..."

Kevin wiped a large streak of strawberry from his nose. "The store's heated." Retrieving his credit card from his wallet, he raised himself onto tiptoes to slap it on the top of the counter. "On AMEX, thanks," he said casually, smiling benignly at the woman who had served them.

She laughed lightly and pushed the plastic to one side. "Very funny, boys," she remarked lightly, before looking pointedly at Kevin's wallet. "That'll be fifteen eighty."

Kevin frowned. "As I said," he replied, slowly and patronisingly, "on AMEX, thanks."

"Does your daddy know you have his card?" The woman's smile froze a little as she fingered the edge of the credit card.

"My father's dead," Kevin snapped. "And it's not his card; it's mine."

"It is, you know," Nick clarified helpfully. 

Kevin threw him a look, visibly assessing whether his friend was trying to help or hinder.

"I'd rather you paid cash," the woman argued.

Kevin shrugged. "I don't have any on me," he replied obstinately.

Howie dug a hand into one pocket. "I think I might h-..." he began, before being fixed with such an intense glare from Kevin that he lost all power of speech for a few moments.

"Credit or nothing."

Despite his height and childish appearance, Kevin was a formidable foe. With one last shrug of her shoulders, the woman sighed and ran his credit card through the machine. Shoulders thrown back from the pleasure of his victory, Kevin completed the transaction before heading purposefully for the door, the image marred only by the trail of melting ice cream that ran from his cone onto his hand.

Once outside, the boys regrouped, Brian watching in amusement as Howie and AJ sampled each others' ice creams, then decided to swap for good. Nick was less enamoured of their romantic gesture, rolling his eyes pointedly as Howie licked a small trail of recalcitrant chocolate from the length of AJ's finger. 

Kevin, more interested in his ice cream than in the behaviour of his bandmates, led the way across to a bench that lay, conveniently, less than half a block away.

"I like ice cream," Nick announced around a mouthful of the same. "It's not as good as candy, but it's still awfully nice."

"Thank you for that enlightening speech." AJ finished eating the remainder of his own ice cream, then licked his lips carefully. "I'm glad to see that the age of your body has finally reconciled itself with the age of your mind."

"Very funny," Nick grumbled, kicking up a cloud of dust from the ground beneath his feet. "Wasn't ice cream your idea?"

"I knew you wanted some, so I said so to be nice."

"When have you ever had my best interests at heart?" His mouth moulded into a full pout by now, Nick folded his arms across his chest and stared at his bandmate with triple-wide eyes. "All you ever do is be mean to me."

"Yup." His ice cream finished, AJ climbed onto Howie's lap, wriggling about until he found a comfortable position. "That's because it's so much fun."

With a humph! of annoyance, Nick turned his back on AJ, glaring off into space.

"His teen angst is starting early," AJ remarked quietly to Howie, who tried heroically to suppress a giggle.

"So," Brian began, after a prolonged silence. "What do we do next? Do we have the afternoon off?"

"Well, we can't exactly do a meet and greet looking like this," Kevin replied patronisingly.

"We managed to carry it off in the interview," Brian reminded him.

"That was different." Kevin threw a disparaging glance in Nick's direction. "Some people find annoying children amusing. Our fans, however, are unlikely to appreciate the incredible shrunken Nick. Or the rest of us, for that matter."

"So an afternoon off then..." Brian was almost literally bouncing with excitement. "What to do... what to do..."

"I know what I'd like to do," AJ said quickly. He grinned lasciviously at Howie. "Unfortunately, I don't think I have the correct working parts at this point in time..."

"Too much information," Brian groaned, as Howie tried to hide a blush.

"What about the party tonight?" Nick asked suddenly, spinning back around.

"What party?" Kevin did a good impression of being unenthusiastic about the concept.

"You know," Nick whined. "The party."

"He means the party *NSYNC are supposed to be at," AJ clarified helpfully.

"Ah. Now I understand." Kevin shrugged. "Well, we can't exactly go like this."

Brian glanced in the direction of the pout that was rapidly forming on Nick's face. "I don't see why not," he said. "I mean, we still have our invitations."

"True. But we're kids now," Kevin argued.

"Maybe it will have worn off by then," Howie said, also mindful of Nick's expression.

"Or perhaps we'll stay like this for good!" AJ added evilly. "Just imagine. We could be one of those groups full of little kids. Like Dream Street or whatever."

"My sister once dated one of those guys," Nick remarked glumly.

"And this is relevant because...?" AJ swivelled on Howie's lap so that he was in the optimum position to poke his tongue out at Nick.

"Fuck off."

"Can we please not fight?" Howie placed a small hand on AJ's thigh, calming him with the gentle pressure, while watching Nick imploringly. "Surely it's okay for Nick to go to the party if he wants to."

"It's too dangerous," Kevin replied firmly.

"How?" Howie used the size of his seven year old eyes to full effect.

"We're talking about the music industry here." Kevin seemed remarkably unmoved by the combined effort of Nick's pout and Howie's puppy dog eyes. "I don't want to think about what some of those people would do with a seven year old in their midst."

"Lou won't be there, at least," Brian offered helpfully.

"Reminding me of him isn't helping my concerns at all." Kevin sighed and turned back to Nick. "Look, I know you really want to go to this thing, for some godforsaken reason, but it just wouldn't be safe. You'd either give away our current... problem... or get yourself molested by some music bigwig. You're not going, and that's final."

"You're just a little kid," Nick grumbled. "Why the fuck should I do what you tell me to?"

"Because it's your fault that we're in this mess," AJ contributed.

"...And because I don't want to spend the evening worrying about you," Kevin added, rather more convincingly.

"It's not fair." Nick glared down at the ground, refusing to meet Kevin's eyes.

"Think of it like this." AJ reached over to poke Nick in the shoulder. "Looking like you do, you'd be unlikely to score with Timberlake, even if you did go tonight. Unless he's into kiddies, which would be another thing entirely..."

"Shut up," Nick whined. "I don't give a shit about Justin, okay?"

"Then you won't mind staying at the hotel tonight, will you?" AJ smiled evilly as Nick turned to snarl impotently at him, then turned back to Howie. "What do you think, D? Will we let him come watch TV with us if he's really nice?"

Ignoring AJ, Howie smiled apologetically at Nick. "Perhaps Kevin's right," he said quietly. 

Nick shrugged. "You're all just pissed because I turned you into children." When no one rushed to deny the fact, he went on. "Fine then. I'll stay home tonight. I didn't want to meet up with *NSYNC anyway."

As Nick slid to his feet and stomped off to glare at a nearby fire hydrant, Brian and Howie exchanged a knowing glance.


	6. Twilight

The old lady had been talking to Brian and Kevin for ten minutes before they realised that they weren't escaping any time soon. Insisting that they call her Grandma Sutherland, she had adopted them not long after they had left their hotel rooms in pursuit of a little fresh air and it wasn't long until the cousins knew her entire life story, as well as that of all her friends, family members and pets.

If he'd been his usual age, Kevin would have left long ago. As a seven year old, however, Kevin found himself quite unable to extricate himself from her ceaseless conversation. It didn't help that she had decided they were lost. Both Kevin and Brian had assured her repeatedly that it wasn't the case, but she was uninterested in their denials.

"Of course you're lost," she said firmly, after Kevin's latest attempt. "Which parent in their right mind would let two youngsters like yourselves out on the street on your own?" Leaning forward, she regarded them intently through the distorting glass of her spectacles. "Now, can you remember where you live?"

"Orlando, Florida," Kevin replied grumpily. "It's quite a walk from here."

"See!" she declared victoriously. "You are lost! This is New York."

"We're aware of that, ma'am." Brian cast a frustrated look in Kevin's direction. "We're staying in that hotel, just over there." He pointed.

"By yourselves?" She continued before either boy could reply. "Of course you're not. Do you know how much it costs to stay in that place? You'd never be able to afford it."

"Our record company pays for it," Kevin snapped, his temper beginning to fray.

"It's not nice to lie." For a moment, it looked like she was going to toss Kevin over her knee and spank him.

Kevin opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it, snapping it closed again and settling for glaring instead.

"Come on," the woman continued, indicating that Kevin and Brian should get to their feet. "We'd better get you two brothers to the nearest police station."

"We're not brothers," Brian argued, the soft tone of his voice contradicting the aggravation in his eyes. "We're cousins... and we don't need to go to the police station. We're staying in that hotel, in rooms 421 and 422, and I assure you that we're as lost as you are young."

Kevin snickered lightly, quickly clapping a hand over his mouth to cover the sound.

"If you're staying here, where are your parents?" she insisted.

Brian let out a low growl of frustration before replying, crossing his fingers behind his back. "They're in the cocktail lounge on the first floor," he lied. "Some of the other guests thought we were being too noisy, so Mom told us to come outside to play."

Amazingly, the old woman seemed to believe this story, nodding and tapping her cane menacingly on the ground. "Now, wasn't it easier to tell the truth?"

Brian shot Kevin a warning look, aware of the way he was clenching and unclenching his hands in anger, before turning back to the elderly woman, a large, fake smile stretched across his face. "Yes, ma'am," he said quickly. "Now, if you don't mind, we'd better get back inside. Our parents will be getting worried."

Before she could protest, Brian grabbed Kevin's hand and pulled him to his feet. "Run," he whispered under his breath.

Feeling like a complete idiot, Kevin did just that, speeding past the concierge and halfway up the stairs to the second floor before slowing down at all. Brian arrived a pace behind him, a mixture of amusement and relief colouring his face.

"I'd forgotten how much it sucks to be a little kid," he said, panting a little. "You forget about that sort of stuff over the years."

"Imagine," Kevin mused. "If we're stuck like this forever, that's going to happen all the time." His worried expression was only half an act. "We're going to spend a large proportion of our day-to-day existence running away from elderly ladies."

"It's okay," Brian grinned. "We'll just make sure we take Nick with us everywhere we go. They'll all be too busy oohing and ahhing over the little blond kid to pay any attention to us."

"Sounds familiar." Laughing, Kevin let himself into his hotel room and headed straight towards the mini bar. 

* * *

Sneaking out of your hotel room was remarkably easy, Nick discovered, when no one else was around. In the early days, there would have been a roommate to contend with, and possibly his mother, but one of the advantages of success was the gaining of a private room.

In a way, Nick felt disappointed that there was any need for such dishonesty; after all, he would have liked to have thought himself adult enough to make his own decisions. It was easier to resort to deception than it was to win an argument with Kevin, however, which was why he literally tiptoed past his bandmates' rooms, holding his breath for fear that one of them might open their door.

He made it downstairs and out through the front doors of their hotel without detection, although it was only once he had walked around the corner and out of sight that Nick allowed himself to believe that he might have successfully slipped past Kevin's watchful eye. Amazed, he grinned openly at random passers-by, before raising his hand to hail a cab.

New York taxi drivers, Nick soon discovered, were not particularly interested when faced with the prospect of a seven year old fare. For fifteen minutes, he stood with one arm outstretched, desperately waving at anything that looked even remotely like a taxi. After being ignored by the fourth driver in less than a minute and attracting only a few off-putting leers in response to his attempt at looking lost and in need of help, Nick decided to give up. Making sure that his party ticket was tucked safely into the pocket of his jeans, he sighed and started walking.

Nick had forgotten how alien it felt to be a child in a street full of grown up strangers. Around him, business people in suits rushed for trains and busses, shouting into their cell phones about stocks and work lunches and secret infidelities. Any attention he received was fleeting and dismissive. He felt grateful that their hotel was in a respectable part of town; as it was, any lingering glance made him feel vulnerable and out of place.

He wasn’t even half way to the hotel in which the function was being held before he began to wonder why he had been so set on going to the party in the first place. It was all very well being immovable when the other guys were at his side, but being a lone seven year old on the streets of New York was enough to make him question whether the possibility of a few moments' conversation was really worth the trouble.

It wasn't as though Nick couldn't just call Justin. He'd known his cell number for years, having programmed it into his own phone at some function or another and kept track of it ever since. It wasn't really as simple as that, though. A 'random' meeting at an industry function could easily be dismissed as coincidence, but actually dialling Justin's number would be an unavoidable admission that Nick had been thinking about his rival. If at all possible, Nick wanted to avoid any situation that might result in Justin laughing in his face.

In a way, Nick supposed, it could probably be classed as a laughable situation. After all, he had known Justin for years. In Europe, they had been paraded together as the respective babies of their groups, glaring at each other with resentment as soon as the cameras were gone. In more recent times, they had fought it out for magazine titles of "cutest star" and "favourite boy", not really caring about the results, but noting each loss all the same. Nick would see Justin at award shows or at functions and he would be coolly civil only to criticise as soon as Justin had turned away.

Nick couldn't remember when it was that he had stopped believing his own words. He supposed that it must have been a gradual thing, but logic indicated that there must have been some catalyst that led to him ducking in and out of the crowds in order to ensure that a chance meeting might be had. In truth, Nick preferred not to think too much about it, instead arguing with AJ and muttering about whichever starlet of the moment was meant to be at the forefront of his mind.

When the uplit façade of the hotel came into sight, it was hard for Nick to ignore the warm rush of relief that flooded throughout his body. Deciding to worry about the homeward journey when it was time to leave, Nick straightened the hem of his tee shirt and retrieved his ticket from the pocket of his jeans. 

Taking a deep breath, he walked towards the doorman.

* * *

"Now, this is more like it," AJ said around a mouthful of french fries. Swallowing, he grinned across the table at Howie. "At least there are some things that you don't need to have gone through puberty to enjoy."

Howie laughed and took another bite of his burger. "It's nice to hear that I can be so easily replaced," he joked.

"You know I love you, D," AJ replied seriously. "But McDonalds is McDonalds, y'know?"

"Dumped for a clown and a bucket of grease," Howie replied, trying to affect a woeful expression, without much success.

"Them's the breaks." AJ offered Howie a french fry for consolation.

"It would have been quite fun, going to the party tonight," Howie mused, after a few minutes of concentrated eating time. "I mean, imagine seeing everyone's faces if five little kids walked in and demanded to know where the bar was."

"I can't see Jive being too impressed," AJ grinned. "They'd be wanting the usual photo opportunities of us posing with a million different big names and all they'd get would be a bunch of children with no tabloid value whatsoever."

"Speak for yourself," Howie threw back and attempted a leer. 

"That look doesn't even work for you when you're an adult, D," AJ said gently. "Stick to being the sweet one and let me deal with the kinky stuff."

Howie laughed and threatened him with a french fry dripping with ketchup. "Hey, I insist on being an active part of any kinkiness that you might currently be planning!"

AJ cast a quick glance down at his own crotch. "I think I'm going to have to give you a raincheck on that one."

Howie collected AJ's legs between his own beneath the table. "I'll hold you to that."

AJ smiled. "You'd better."

Finished, Howie stood to toss his and AJ's wrappers into the closest bin. "So, what do we do now?" he asked, returning to the table.

"I guess going to a club is out of the question," AJ joked.

"I think we might have a little bit of trouble getting past the bouncer." Howie smiled mischievously. "And I wouldn't want to be the one to have to tell Kevin where we'd been."

"TV it is, then." Dragging Howie back to his feet, AJ threw an arm around his shoulders. "Come on, D. Let's go back to the hotel and pretend we're as innocent as we look." His smile was rather strained. "God knows, we don't have much choice."

Turning, they headed towards the door.

"Just as long as we don't have to watch the Disney channel," Howie agreed, and followed his boyfriend outside.


	7. The Party

Bluffing his way into the party had been a lot easier than Nick was expecting it to be. At first, the doorman had looked at him with undisguised distrust, but his manner had changed as soon as Nick had handed him his ticket.

"Nick Carter?" he asked, bemused, reading the name that had been printed on the card in gold script. "Funny. Just like the Backstreet Boy, right?"

"It's a common name," Nick said quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets so that the doorman couldn't see that they were shaking.

"So, what's the deal?" the doorman went on, apparently blind to Nick's unease. "Did you come with your parents?"

"They're already inside," Nick lied. "Dad does something to do with sound production. They gave us these tickets because it's my birthday." Beginning to enjoy the charade, he smiled. "I really wanted to meet the Backstreet Boys."

"Did you now?" Nick was already getting used to the patronising tone that most adults used when talking to his seven year old self. "Well, they haven't arrived yet, but I'm sure they'll get here later, once they've finished doing whatever it is that big stars do of an evening."

Nick thought of his Game Boy, discarded on his hotel bed, and of AJ and Howie's enthusiastic decision to have McDonalds for dinner. "The same sort of things that everyone else does, I guess," he said.

"Perhaps you're right." The doorman didn't sound at all convinced. "Anyway, you'd better get inside. I'm sure your parents will be starting to worry about you."

Nick bit his tongue, instead taking his ticket back from the doorman and heading into the function room. Behind him, the doorman called out a counterfeit "happy birthday", then fell silent, presumably forgetting that Nick had even existed.

* * *

Nick was beginning to miss being tall. In a crowded room, full of adults, it was hard to see where the exits were, let alone find someone in the throng. If he had been his usual height, Nick would have been able to see over the top of most of the guests' heads; then again, if that were the case, he probably would have been too busy fending off media and hangers on to get the chance to search.

Strangely enough, Justin was actually the first person Nick managed to identify amidst the crowd. He wasn't sure whether it was coincidence or just a case of tunnel vision, but suddenly, facing the prospect of actually achieving his goal for the night, Nick wished that he could visit the bar without causing a national outcry.

Nick forced himself to breathe, running a hand through his hair in order to tame it as much as possible. It struck him as quite ridiculous that he should be at all concerned about his appearance when he looked as though it should have been several hours past his bedtime, but the gesture was reflexive.

Coughing, he reached out to grab Justin's arm. "Uh... hi..." he began, smiling weakly when Justin turned to look at him.

"...Hi," Justin replied, awarding Nick with his best megastar smile.

Nick began to realise what his fans must feel like when attempting to talk to him. Justin was being polite enough, acknowledging Nick's presence and waiting for the requisite autograph to be requested, but there was a complete indifference in his eyes that couldn't totally be hidden by the false welcome of his smile. Justin's grin said, "adore me," and Nick knew, from experience, that that was the expectation. He couldn't help but wonder whether he presented to his own fans in the same way. Then again, Justin had always found confidence easy, whereas Nick was still waiting for someone to step out from the sidelines and shout, "April Fools!"

"Hi," he said again, and stuck out his hand. "Recognise me?"

Bemused, Justin took the hand on offer and shook it firmly. "No. Sorry."

Nick nodded, unsurprised. "Fair enough. Are you enjoying the party?"

Justin shrugged. "You know, same old same old. I'm only here because management told us to be. What about you? You a fan?"

Nick coughed and hid a grin. "Dude, I'm not so sure that's the word for it."

"...Because no one told me that we were doing some sort of meet and greet thing here tonight. We did the whole being nice to disadvantaged kiddies thing this afternoon." Pausing, Justin looked at Nick through narrowed eyes, his expression a mixture of accusation and embarrassment. "Uh... you're not a disadvantaged kiddie, are you?"

"Nope." Nick shrugged, thinking about how strange it was to be looking up at Justin Timberlake for the first time in his life.

"Good." Justin actually looked a little sheepish for a moment, something that Nick got the impression was not a regular emotion for him. "I mean, it's not that I would have minded, y'know. It's just that they should tell me these things." Running a hand through his curls, he sighed. "You gotta be turned on 24-7, y'know?"

"I know," Nick replied, and he was sure he'd never said anything truer in his entire life.

Justin's smile became a little more genuine. As he truly looked at Nick for the first time, however, his eyes narrowed. "Actually, you do look awfully familiar, kid." He frowned, obviously attempting to work out where the similarity lay.

For a few seconds, Nick contemplated whether revealing the truth would be the best course of action, given that Justin had never exactly been what he would have classed as the sort of person in whom you would readily confide. That said, he had always struck Nick as being more open to strange situations than most people, possibly something to do with growing up in front of an audience. And, as far as strange situations went, it didn't get much stranger than turning yourself and your friends into a bunch of seven year olds.

Resolved, Nick smiled weakly. "Nick Carter," he said, his words coming out tight and panicked. 

Justin leaned down a little further, peering into Nick's face. "You're right, you know. You do look a little like he looked back in the early days."

"No," Nick replied. He was aware that his tone sounded quite snappish, a combination of nervousness and the mild itch of irritability that often began to set in as soon as he engaged in conversation with Justin. "I am Nick Carter."

"Same name, yo? That's quite a coincidence."

Nick thought it quite unfair that Justin was choosing his great moment of revelation to be twenty times as dim as he usually was. He was vaguely aware that the conversation had already slipped beyond his control as, hands on hips, he glared up at Justin, his lips twisting into a scowl. "Geez, you're even more stupid than I've been giving you credit for, Timberlake. How many times do I have to tell you? I am Nick! I got turned into a kid. We all did."

Justin's eyes widened as he continued to stare at Nick. "You know, coming from anyone else, I wouldn't believe you. But somehow..."

Despite his preconceptions of Justin, Nick was still a little surprised. "You mean... you actually believe me?"

"Why not?" Justin shrugged. "If anyone on this planet is likely to fuck up so badly that the laws of physics cease to apply, then it's you, Carter."

Nick didn't really have an answer for that. "Thanks for the show of confidence," he muttered grumpily.

"So..." Justin's smile betrayed his gleeful interest in Nick's situation. "What did you do? Eat something you shouldn't have?"

Nick mustered the best withering stare that his seven year old face was capable of. "I didn't eat anything. I wished on a star; that's all."

"You should know better than to do that. " Justin grinned. "I used to wish that I was famous..."

Despite himself, Nick giggled. "So did I."

"Yeah, and how many times have you wanted to take it back?" Suddenly, Justin didn't seem as amused, or even as confident, as he had a moment earlier.

"Thousands. But there's a reason we both ended up where we are; it's just easy to forget that sometimes."

Justin looked at him appraisingly. "You know," he said slowly, "you're not nearly as obnoxious as a little kid."

"Thanks a fucking lot!"

"You're welcome." The moment broken, Justin smirked. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be near impossible to be more obnoxious than you usually are..."

"Look who's talking, Timberlake." Fed up, Nick turned to watch the other guests in the room. "I don't even know why I bothered coming here tonight," he muttered, his frown twisting into something more fragile. 

"Because you couldn't go two hours without being the centre of attention?" Justin suggested, his voice coming from a point somewhere above Nick's right ear.

"Justin, I'm in a band with AJ McLean," Nick replied very slowly. "Of course I can cope with it."

"That's not what I've heard..."

"Who have you been talking to?" Nick asked quickly, his voice coming out a little higher than he would have liked.

"No one." Justin laughed, clapping a large hand on Nick's shoulder and turning him back to face him. "Paranoid much?"

"How could I not be with you around?"

Justin's fingers dug into Nick's skin, his firm grasp only a fraction away from becoming painful. "I'm glad you're here," he muttered, the words sounding strained, as though it annoyed him that he was making such an admission.

The sudden change in Justin's attitude took a while to register within Nick's mind. "Huh?"

"I'm glad you're here," Justin repeated. "These parties blow. It's all about selling and maintaining an image. It doesn't matter if I want to tell the company bigwigs to shove their drinks and nibblies up their collective asses; my role is to stand around and look young and pretty and passably talented."

"But why me?" Nick persisted, looking around. "You've got the other guys, surely."

"Yeah, they're here. But sometimes all their bullshit just gets a bit too much, y'know?"

"I know." Nick smiled sheepishly. "Kevin forbade me from coming here tonight."

"You're nineteen now, and he's still telling you what to do?"

Nick nodded.

"My point exactly." Justin released his grip on Nick's shoulder, letting his hand drop awkwardly to his side. "You can be an annoying little shit at times, Nick, but at least you understand stuff."

Nick had a feeling that, for Justin Timberlake, that was a grand compliment.

* * *

An hour and a half later, Nick could barely believe that he had spent the evening deep in conversation with Justin. After a fairly shaky start, the two of them had somehow slipped into easy discussion of their lives and interests, the occasional awkwardness doing little to sour the interaction. 

Some time during the first half hour, Chris had joined them for a few minutes, obviously intrigued by Justin's uncharacteristic interest in sustaining a conversation with what looked to be a pre-pubescent fan, but he had bored quickly and moved on. After that, no one had thought to bother them. Moving into a corner of the function room, they had commandeered a couple of well-stuffed chairs and stayed beneath the radar of any publicists or media representatives that might have been inclined to make a claim on Justin's time.

It was only when the crowd in the room slowly began to thin that Nick realised how long the two of them had been talking. Glancing at his watch, he laughed in amazement. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

Justin checked his own watch, his face registering the surprise that Nick felt. "I must be sick," he joked, "spending my night talking to you."

"It's my irresistible charm," Nick responded, his smile wide.

"Must be." Justin poked out his tongue. For a moment, it was hard to tell which of the two had been turned into a child. 

"I should probably head off," Nick said reluctantly, ignoring the gesture. "If Kevin decides to check my room, there'll be hell to pay in the morning. 

"I'm glad Chris never tried to play father with me," Justin replied sympathetically. "I mean, the guy's more immature than I am. It would have been a bit ridiculous if he had tried."

"Kevin means well," Nick defended his friend. "Sometimes it comes out badly, but basically he's just trying to make things as easy as possible for the rest of us. Hell, he even had a point tonight. Some of the looks I was getting when I walked over here were a little freaky."

"You walked here?" Justin frowned. "Okay, you didn't say that before. I'm starting to see where Kevin was coming from..."

"I got here, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but this is New York City, Nick. You're not walking back again." Crossing his arms, Justin gave Nick a very effective 'don't mess with me' look. 

"I couldn't get a cab." Nick shrugged defensively. "I hadn't exactly planned to walk, but apparently taxi drivers around here have better things to do than to give lifts to seven year olds."

"I'll come with you, then." Justin's tone was matter-of-fact. 

"Now who's playing father?" Nick teased. "Keep that up and I'll start to think you actually give a damn about me."

"Think what you want." Justin shrugged. "It's not as though I have anything better to do than chaperoning you back to your hotel."

"Don't you think it might look a little weird, you heading off with some unknown kid? The media will have a field day if they catch wind of it."

"Fuck the media," Justin snarled. "No one believes the shit they print anyway. What are they going to say? That I have a penchant for fucking children?"

"I don't know," Nick laughed. "Do you?"

"That's just sick, yo." Justin shoved him lightly. "If anything gets said, I'll just tell them that you're my cousin or something."

"I can just imagine it. Bop will run an article about how wonderful a person you are for taking your poor, normal family members out to mingle with the rich and famous and all your teeny fans will get teary at the thought of your unselfish deeds."

"Like you can talk," Justin threw back. "Each time one of those magazines so much as mentions Aaron, I'm sure your fan base doubles."

"I'm not complaining." Nick smiled up at Justin, the expression becoming a little more forced as he went on. "So, uh, are we heading off?" he asked, suddenly feeling quite shy.

"If you want." Justin looked as though he might be feeling a little awkward himself. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Nah." Getting to his feet, Nick waited for Justin to do the same, intensely aware of the graceless way in which his arms hung loosely at his sides. "No reason to stick around."

"I don't get why you were so desperate to come in the first place." Justin led the way towards the door. "I mean, if I had an excuse not to be here..."

"Maybe it was the company," Nick said, and immediately felt like kicking himself. 

Justin frowned, but didn't comment.

"Besides," Nick went on, his words rushed, "what else was I going to do? Sit around and watch television?"

"I guess it all depends on what's on." Justin held the door open for Nick before passing through it himself. "I mean, personally, I'd rather watch the shopping channel than hang out with these tossers."

Nick smiled. "I don't think my hotel television gets the shopping channel."

Walking to the edge of the pavement, Justin raised his hand to hail a passing taxi. "Well, that explains it then," he laughed. "And here I was thinking you just wanted to hang out with me for a while."

Nick climbed into the cab without saying another word.


	8. Night

Lowering your voice worked perfectly well for the first couple of minutes, Kevin had discovered but, after half an hour of speaking to his girlfriend over the phone, he had a sore throat the size of a buffalo. After calling out for room service, he settled back on to his bed to await its arrival, flicking from television channel to television channel without taking much notice. 

Finally, he stumbled upon Entertainment Tonight, his channel surfing coming to a quick halt when he recognised a still photograph of his own - albeit adult - face. Intrigued, he turned up the volume.

The presenter was obviously talking about the interview fiasco that morning. Clearly bemused by the idea of such an outlandish 'publicity stunt', she described the seven year olds in great detail, even going so far as to clarify that the junior AJ was free of ink. 

"Of course he is," Kevin muttered cynically. "Does she really think Denise would have stood for him getting any tattoos at that age?"

The presenter went on to suggest that the need to resort to such strange measures may be indicating that the Backstreet Boys were on their way down... and out. "After all," she concluded, "when was the last time *NSYNC avoided an interview by sending a box of puppies in their place?"

"Goddamn *NSYNC," Kevin grumbled aloud, switching off the television in disgust. "I'd like to see how they would handle being turned into a bunch of seven year olds."

His room service arrived and Kevin took the food gratefully, tipping the bellboy healthily when he managed to contain the question that was in his eyes. Once the teenager was gone, Kevin returned to his bed, eating in silence for a few minutes before reaching for the telephone.

 _I'd better check how Nick's getting on, all by himself,_ he thought, feeling a slight pang of guilt. _He really did want to go to that party, after all._

After dialling Nick's room number, Kevin let the phone ring eleven times before giving up. "Perhaps he's in the shower," he muttered, not really believing his own words.

Ten minutes and a large tiramisu dessert later, Kevin tried again. When the phone rang out for a second time, there was no avoidance of the fact that Nick was not in his room.

He's gone to the party, Kevin thought, feeling a small wave of concern make its way through his body. I hope he doesn't do anything stupid.

Laughing tightly, Kevin replaced the receiver and pushed the telephone to one side. "Who am I kidding," he groaned. "Of course he will..."

* * *

"This is my room." Nick nodded towards the closed door, still amazed that Justin had not only seen him back to his hotel but had also insisted on walking him to his room, just in case he encountered any unsavoury types on the stairs.

"Nice place," Justin replied, looking up and down the hall. His hands were shoved deeply into the pockets of his jeans, the forward tilt of his shoulders making it look as though he wasn't entirely comfortable in his surroundings... or in Nick's company.

"It's okay," Nick agreed. "We didn't chose it ourselves, of course. We had to be in town to do the publicity circuit, so Jive hooked us up."

"We're just around the corner. I'm sure they set it up like that on purpose."

"It'd be nice if they'd just let us make music, rather than pitting us all against each other in some manufactured war." Nick shrugged and held out his hands in a gesture of futility. "But let's face it, that'd be too simple, wouldn't it?"

"Word to that." Glancing at the doors to either side of Nick's, Justin frowned. "So, are the other guys on this floor too?"

"Brian's to the left, Kevin's across the way and AJ and Howie are to the right." Nick grinned. "No fear of losing each other."

"I should probably piss off before they see me, then," Justin said, obviously apprehensive about Nick's revelation. "I don't think Kevin would be too happy to find me standing on his doorstep."

"He wouldn't care." As Justin looked at him in disbelief, Nick couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, so he'd be a little weirded out. That doesn't mean you have to go."

Unconvinced, Justin shook his head. "You know, I really think-..."

"Come in for a minute, then," Nick jumped in, amazed at his own audacity. "I'll let you take anything you want from the mini bar as a token of my gratitude."

Justin hesitated for a moment, watching Nick as though he was trying to work out whether he was being set up for some elaborate prank. Rolling his eyes, Nick inserted his room key in the lock and turned it, gesturing for Justin to go in ahead of him once the door had swung open.

"Go on," he said, strangely confident. "I'm seven years old; what am I going to do?"

"I'm not sure I want to find out," Justin laughed, but he did as he was told nonetheless.

His heart pounding, Nick followed him into the room, closing the door behind them.

* * *

AJ wrapped his skinny limbs around Howie, his eyes remaining open despite the absence of any significant light. "Do you think we'll be like this forever?" he asked.

Howie shrugged within his boyfriend's tight embrace. "Who knows."

"I wonder if we'll ever grow older." AJ's tone was unusually subdued. "I wouldn't want to be seven again forever."

"At least we have each other." When AJ showed no signs of understanding, Howie went on. "I mean, imagine what it's like for Kevin and Brian. Their girlfriends aren't going to want to stay attached to a little kid, even if our minds are still the same. They'd get into trouble, apart from anything else. Imagine trying to tell a court that it was okay for you to be caught in a compromising position with an under-eight because they'd been in their twenties before Nick wished upon a star."

AJ snickered loudly. "They might believe it if they knew Nick as well as we do."

Howie wasn't so quick to condemn their younger bandmate. "This is probably hardest on him," he said seriously. "What if he's interested in someone? He can't exactly do anything about it now."

"Unless she's six," AJ quipped, glad that it was too dark for him to be able to see the unimpressed expression on Howie's face. "Besides, Nick's still hung up on my seven year old ass, remember?"

Howie thought about Nick's disappointment at not being allowed to go to the industry party that evening and about his loud insistence that his interest had nothing to do with the promise of *NSYNC's attendance. "I'm not so sure about that," he said gently, kissing the top of AJ's forehead in order to soften his words a little. "I don't think he's worried about you so much as what you have..."

"Are you saying he's got the hots for you, D?" The lines of AJ's body immediately tensed. "Because he's not getting you without a fight."

Howie tried to be amused, but AJ's possessiveness somehow managed to turn his insides into a squirming mass of love instead. "Don't worry; I'll be sticking around for a while," he assured AJ. "Apart from anything else, who else would want me with this hair?"

AJ smiled into the darkness and pulled Howie's head down upon his chest. "Let's not find out."

They stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to each other breathe as AJ traced circles on Howie's back with his fingertips. When sleep didn't come immediately, however, AJ became restless, tossing and turning several times before finally resuming their conversation.

"So, what's the deal with Nick?" he asked. "You were insinuating something before, weren't you."

Howie shrugged. "I think he's moving on; that's all."

"What? He's interested in someone new?"

"I think he has been for a while now," Howie admitted.

"Who?"

"Well, he hasn't said anything..."

AJ pressed a soft kiss to Howie's neck, before whispering, "tell me," in his boyfriend's ear.

"Remember how Nick used to be able to rant for hours about how much he hated Justin Timberlake and how he was positive the kid must have been the bleached spawn of Satan?"

AJ nodded. "Yeah..."

"He hasn't done that recently, has he?" Howie didn't bother to explain, preferring to wait for AJ to figure it out for himself. 

Finally, the pieces appeared to slot together. "Ohhh..."

"Are you okay with that?" Despite himself, Howie couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable.

"Nicky and the Infant?" AJ kissed Howie on the tip of his nose, thinking about the revelation. "I'll kill Timberlake if he hurts Nick."

"But you're not jealous?" Howie prompted.

"I've got you, haven't I?" AJ replied without so much as a moment's thought. "I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I was." His mouth twisted into an evil grin as another thought occurred to him. "Besides, if he was getting laid regularly, perhaps he'd stop being such a moody little bastard."

"Didn't work for you," Howie teased, then squealed as AJ dug his fingers into his sides, tickling him mercilessly in retaliation.

* * *

Justin's gaze wandered around Nick's hotel room as he took in the chaotic mess of clothes and possessions. "You make yourself at home, don't you?" he teased, moving a pair of jeans to one side so that he could sit on the end of the unmade bed.

"It's easier to find things this way." Nick shrugged defensively.

"Your mom must have loved you when you were a kid. How many times did she have to ground you for not keeping your room neat?"

"A few," Nick admitted. "But then Aaron came along, and I started blaming all the mess on him. In hindsight, I doubt she believed a word of it."

"I never would have lied to my mom like that." Justin pushed a few more items of clothing onto the ground, clearing the bed entirely. Scooting backwards, he ended up stretched out comfortably, head resting against one pillow.

"That's because you're a mama's boy." Laughing, Nick joined him on the bed, bouncing on the mattress several times before giving up, unable to cause much movement given his reduced size.

"Yep." Justin shrugged, not at all worried by the accusation.

Dropping onto his stomach, Nick wriggled a little closer to Justin, resting his head in his hand and watching him from beneath the blond overhang of his messy bangs. "Do you have to get back to your hotel?" he asked, hoping that the heat in his cheeks wasn't too obvious.

"If you weren't seven years old, I'd think that was a come-on," Justin joked, his smile broad.

"You were the one who wanted to walk me to my room," Nick retaliated. "Besides, who the fuck would want to sleep with you?"

Unworried, Justin's gaze was even. "Ask me again when you have the correct working parts..."

Nick tried to snarl, but the expression was comical upon his young face, provoking entirely the wrong reaction from Justin, whose face softened noticeably. "Aww. You really were a cute kid, weren't you?" he gushed, reaching out a hand to ruffle Nick's hair.

"Too bad I had to get fat and ugly, right?" Nick supplied, feeling that it would be easier if he were the one to say the words.

Justin frowned. "That's not what I meant," he said finally.

"Whatever." His mood spoiled, Nick twisted into a sitting position, turning his back so that he could no longer see Justin's face.

"Sensitive much?" Justin sighed, before trying another tactic. "As long as you're sure that the other guys aren't going to come in here and kick my ass, then no, I don't have to get back to my hotel," he offered, resuming the earlier thread of conversation. "Mom doesn't feel the same urge to check my room every five minutes now that I've turned eighteen." Sitting up, he gently clasped Nick's shoulder with one hand. "I can stick around for as long as you want."

"What? 'Cos you feel sorry for me?" Nick accused.

"I don't do pity. If I didn't want to be here, I would have gone back to my hotel long ago. Hell, I probably wouldn't even have bothered speaking to you at the party." Justin shrugged, releasing his grasp. "God, every time I start to think you're a decent kid after all..."

"I'm not a kid." Nick turned to look at Justin, his eyes dark. "I just look like it at the moment."

For a few seconds, it seemed as though Justin might retaliate, his face smoothly expressionless as he debated whether it was worth escalating the argument into a fully blown fight. Finally, however, he shrugged and smiled. "So, am I staying?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nick's frown faded. "Wanna play Truth Or Dare?"


	9. Truth or Dare

"Truth." Nick smiled up at Justin, his eyes challenging.

"Girls pick truth," Justin teased.

Nick's smile vanished. "And this coming from the guy with blond tips in his hair."

Justin patted his curls defensively. "Apparently this style is very popular with the teenies. Bop did a survey."

"You are a teenager, Justin," Nick pointed out.

"Unlike some people in this room..."

Nick glared for a moment before speaking again. "Truth," he repeated.

"Okay then..." Justin knew when to stop pushing the matter. After thinking for a moment, an evil smile stretched across his features. "Have you ever thought about kissing one of the other guys in your group?"

"Duh." Nick rolled his eyes. "Of course I have, idiot."

Justin's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Well, I dated AJ for six months, didn't I?" Nick's tone was matter-of-fact, despite the pulsing thrill of exposure that rushed through his veins. "There was a lot of kissing then, I seem to recall."

"You? And AJ?" Justin gaped openly.

"You didn't know?" Nick shrugged, surprised. "I thought everyone knew."

"No." Justin paused for a moment before continuing. "You're really gay, then? The golden boy of pop... gay?" he asked, his words an exclamation.

"Nah." Nick grinned. "I'm just not picky; that's all. And besides, I thought that was your title."

"Dude, that is so..." Justin remained silent for a few seconds, letting the revelation sink in. "You said 'dated'," he said eventually. "You're not still together, then?"

Nick frowned. "Not for some time now. He and Howie went all perfect match on me."

"Oh." Amazingly, Justin looked genuinely put out by the revelation. "Did that happen after you and AJ broke up?"

"Of course!" Nick was horrified that Justin could so much as suggest otherwise. "He's not a complete prick... he just tends to rub my nose in his new relationship a bit. Which makes Howie just as uncomfortable as it makes me."

"Do you still love him?" Engrossed in Nick's words, Justin leaned forward a little further, his gaze not moving from Nick's face.

"I love all the guys." Nick thought for a moment before continuing. "But I'm not in love with him."

"Oh," Justin said again, his expression unreadable.

There was an uncomfortable silence, which Nick rushed to fill. "Your turn," he stated. "What'll it be? Truth or dare?"

Justin took an unreasonably long time to reply. "Truth," he said finally, still looking undecided.

"I thought only girls chose truth," Nick teased.

"I have the hair for it, apparently."

Nick didn't need to think about his question. "What about you?" he demanded. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"Uh... yeah," Justin admitted, after some hesitation. "I haven't been in, like, a relationship with any of them, though."

"But have you wanted to be?" Nick prompted, his heart beating a little faster in his chest at the thought that Justin might actually not be quite as phenomenally unattainable as he had previously thought.

"Well..." Justin smiled wistfully. "When we first started out, I guess I used to have a bit of a crush on Chris. He was so fucking cool, y'know?"

"I think that's how the thing with AJ started," Nick laughed. "I wanted to be him so damn much... Everything just seems so effortless for him. He always looks the part and says the right things. The guy can talk to anyone."

"You can talk to the important people," Justin pointed out.

"I guess." Nick paused. "So, you've never actually done it, then? Kissed one of the other guys?"

"JC kissed me once when he was really drunk, but I don't think that counts, seeing as he didn't remember it the next day."

Nick tried not to smile, but failed dismally. "Ouch."

Justin coughed and changed the subject. "Your turn."

"Truth."

"Again?" Frowning, Justin pondered his next question. "Would you do it again?" he asked eventually. "Date a guy, I mean."

"Sure," Nick replied easily. "I mean, what's the difference?"

"Well, the press, for starters."

"The press doesn't have to know everything."

"I suppose you could always have a publicity relationship as well," Justin mused.

Nick shrugged. "I guess."

"Who with?" Justin asked suddenly.

Flustered, Nick played for time. "What do you mean?"

"Who would you do it again with?"

"That's another question," Nick argued.

"It's related." Justin was insistent.

Nick paused. "Oh, you know," he said finally. "People."

"Which people?" Justin's stare was off-putting.

"What do you want me to say? That I'd date you?" Nick's laugh was tight and nervous.

Justin remained silent.

"Well, yeah, I guess you are pretty hot," Nick went on, rubbing his neck uncomfortably as the words tumbled from his mouth, seemingly without control. "But that doesn't mean I have to have a crush on you or anything. I mean, I could be interested in a whole other member of *NSYNC, or Kevin, or Brian or someone, or I could have decided to run off to become a monk or..." His voice trailed off as he stared at Justin, horrified. "Truth or dare."

"Dare," Justin said quickly, obviously eager to avoid any future revelations.

"Oh." Thrown, Nick frowned. "I don't know. There's only so much you can do in a hotel room."

"You'll think of something." Justin's eyes seemed very big and very blue in the yellow light cast by Nick's bedside lamp.

"If I wasn't seven, I'd think that was a come on," Nick joked nervously, mimicking Justin's earlier statement.

Justin shrugged. "Think what you want."

Nick watched him for a moment, stunned, before shaking his head and dismissing Justin's words. "Dude! I look like a kid!" Nick exclaimed. "That's just wrong."

Justin laughed. After a moment, Nick joined in. Leaning back against the angled pillows at the head of Nick's bed, Justin gestured for Nick to join him. He did so, shyly watching as Justin stretched over to push the hair back from his face.

"How long do you think this will last?" Justin asked quietly. "Are you going to look like a seven year old forever, or will you be back to your usual gorgeous, nineteen year old self by morning?"

Nick blushed, his smile forced. "I don't know," he admitted, shutting his eyes so that he couldn't see the teasing look that was sure to be forming on Justin's face. "But I know the other guys are going to kill me if we are stuck like this forever."

"They'll live," Justin reassured him. Pulling the bedclothes out from beneath Nick, he gestured towards the ensuite. "Now go put on your pyjamas. It's late."

For a moment, Nick contemplated protesting, but eventually gave in, opening his eyes to find Justin smiling at him, without a hint of mockery in his expression. Sliding from the bed, he gathered an oversized tee shirt and pair of boxer shorts into his arms, before disappearing into the bathroom, confused.

By the time he returned, clutching the waistband of his boxer shorts in order to keep them from falling down, the bedclothes had been neatly folded down and the pillows rearranged. Justin stood beside the bed, waiting for him.

"Are you going?" Nick asked, disappointed.

Justin indicated for Nick to get into bed. "Do you want me to stay?"

Nick nodded warily as he curled up beneath the covers, suddenly sleepy. "You can protect me from Kevin when he tries to kill me tomorrow morning."

Justin grinned. "Deal. Of course, then you're going to have to return the favour and protect me from him." Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leant to pull the bedclothes a little higher around Nick's shoulders. "You know," he said slowly, avoiding Nick's eyes. "You never asked me for a who."

"Huh?" Nick frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's been a long time since I stopped crushing on Chris," he explained. 

"Oh," Nick replied. A few seconds later, when Justin's eyes remained trained firmly on the wall behind the bed, Nick began to understand. "Oh," he repeated, and reached out to squeeze Justin's hand.

When Justin finally met Nick's eyes, his smile was brilliant, twisting Nick's stomach into a ball of nervous excitement. "G'night, Nick," he said softly, leaning over to brush his lips against Nick's forehead in a brief goodnight kiss. "You're not so bad when you're like this."

"I'm always like this," Nick muttered, his eyelids already growing heavy.

Justin's smile froze. "I know."

* * *

By the time that Kevin opened the door to Nick's hotel room, he was close to screaming from the combination of anger and concern that throbbed within his veins. Brian had been less than helpful when called upon to be reassuring, suggesting that Nick could probably look after himself, "just so long as there aren't any paedophiles at the party". After a few seconds spent pondering the types of people that usually frequented industry gatherings, Kevin went straight downstairs to the hotel reception to procure a spare key to Nick's room.

It had actually been easier than expected; the girl manning the desk was a bored teenager who seemed more interested in cracking her gum than in checking the authenticity of Kevin's 'lost child' routine. He had the key after a slight pout and the vaguest hint of a tremble to his bottom lip

On contemplation, Kevin realised that it might have been easier to just knock on Nick's door, but there was always the possibility that, riddled by guilt at his misdemeanour, Nick might not have answered, even if he had been there. As it was, however, he was able to enter the room with only the barest of noises to attest to his presence.

Kevin hadn't thought a lot about what he might find inside Nick's hotel room but, even if had been capable of such forethought, he never would have expected to find Nick fast asleep in bed with Justin Timberlake standing sentry by his side. Any words of accusation that might have been forming in Kevin's throat vanished as he took in the scene before him. Justin was watching Nick sleep. Justin Timberlake was watching Nick Carter sleep, with an expression of bemused affection clear upon his face.

"Huh?" Kevin said aloud, alerting Justin to his presence.

For a moment, Justin stared at him, not recognising Kevin at all in his altered state. Finally, though, it all seemed to click inside his mind and he nodded knowingly, even allowing a slight smirk to sneak onto his lips as the sight.

He waved, the gesture a little self-conscious, then raised a finger to his mouth to indicate that Kevin should be quiet. "He's asleep," he whispered, rather unnecessarily. "He wanted me to stay."

Kevin didn't know whether to be furious or relieved. "Is he okay?" he asked finally. "Nothing happened at the party?"

"He's fine," Justin replied, and there was something in his hushed tone that indicated a greater depth to his words.

Kevin contemplated telling the teenager to leave, but then thought better of it, instead just nodding and backing out of the room. He planned to have a lot to say to Nick in the morning but, for now, all that he cared about doing was returning to his own hotel room and getting some sleep. After all, he must be tired if it was beginning to look as though Justin Timberlake actually gave a damn about Nick.

Closing the door, Kevin shook his head and hoped to God that things would be back to normal in the morning.

* * *

Howie kissed the top of AJ's head as he snuggled a little further beneath the covers. "Do you think Nick went to that party after all?" he asked.

"Don't know, don't care." AJ pulled Howie closer and pressed his lips softly against his boyfriend's neck. "Although I'd like to see Kevin's face tomorrow morning if he did."

"You don't fool me." Howie giggled lightly at the tickle of AJ's lips. "You want him to be happy just as much as I do."

"Nobody could want something that much, D," AJ teased. "You're so busy worrying about the rest of us that I bet you haven't even thought about what this whole thing will mean to you."

"I have, you know." Howie's tone was serious. "I've thought about the fact that it's midnight in a few minutes time and that we probably don't have much longer to wait before we find out whether it was just a one day thing." He snuggled a little closer into AJ's side. "And you're not the only one who likes to have adult working parts," he continued, his voice a little lighter. "All day today, I'd keep thinking of things I wanted to do to you... only to remember I couldn't."

"Poor D." AJ's voice was soft in Howie's ear. "Desperate for a piece of AJ action and you can't do a thing about it."

"Desperate?" For a moment, Howie contemplated getting offended, then decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Perhaps in a week's time," he concluded mildly.

"Is it wrong to be having dirty thoughts about a seven year old?" AJ said, the darkness not thick enough to cover the smirk within his voice.

"Yes. Very wrong." Howie kissed him, still not accustomed to the feel of AJ's changed lips. 

"You're going to go to jail, then," AJ replied, in between kisses.

"Just as long as you're there with me."

"I'm not going anywhere," AJ vowed. "Even if I turn back to normal and you stay seven for the rest of our lives."

"Now that is wrong," Howie laughed.

"Too bad." AJ dug his fingers into Howie's most ticklish spot, just under his ribcage. As Howie shrieked girlishly, AJ continued. "Besides, who else is going to love you if you're a little kid?"

Howie glanced at the neon numbers on the clock radio beside their bed. "I guess we're going to find out," he replied, his voice uncharacteristically strained. "It's gone twelve. Looks like we're stuck this way forever."

AJ shrugged within Howie's embrace. "Lucky you've got me, then, isn't it?" he asked, kissing his boyfriend as deeply as was possible with his child's lips.

"Kevin's going to kill Nick," Howie said eventually, his sleepiness evident in his tone.

"He'll live," AJ murmured, close to sleep himself. "We all will. We've got each other, remember."

As sleep claimed him, Howie smiled.


	10. Epilogue: Another Day

When Nick awoke, he knew immediately that he wasn't seven any more. There was a heaviness in his limbs that hadn't be there a day earlier and a spacial awareness of his environment that was out of kilter with his reduced size. As he stretched and yawned, his hands hit the wall behind his bed, his feet straining against the bedclothes. Frowning, Nick tried to work out whether he was disappointed or overjoyed. He couldn't really tell.

A few minutes passed before Nick's memories of the previous evening truly began to surface. It was only when he rolled over to look at the clock on his bedside table that he remembered about Justin. Sitting up, he looked around the hotel room, head whipping from side to side in a display of eagerness that he didn't particularly want to acknowledge. It soon became evident, however, that Nick was alone.

Trying not to feel disappointed, Nick slid back beneath the bedclothes. After all, Justin didn't owe him anything. He'd probably left as soon as Nick had fallen asleep, eager to be rid of his seven year old companion. I guess he felt responsible for me or something, Nick thought sadly, staring up at the ceiling. Once I was asleep, though, he could leave without feeling guilty.

Nick frowned. For a while, there, he had almost allowed himself to think that Justin might actually return his feelings. He wasn't usually so foolish; if it weren't for the extenuating circumstances of being turned into a child, he would have been quite annoyed at his own stupidity. 

Face it, Nick, he mused. People like Justin Timberlake don't fall for guys like you. 

Sighing, he worked his way a little further down the bed, and pulled the covers right over his head.

* * *

For a moment, Brian forgot that he had spent the previous day as a seven year old. As he slowly awakened, he stretched broadly, the volume of his yawns echoing around the room. It was only when he moved to get out of bed that he remembered.

Frowning, he swung his legs out from underneath his bedclothes and experimentally lowered them towards the floor. After a second of curious suspense, his feet landed firmly on the plush carpet that stretched beneath his bed.

Encouraged by this minor success, Brian moved quickly over to the mirror, smiling in relief as he looked straight at a reflection of his normal, adult self.

"The others will be pleased," he said out loud, jiggling up and down a few times to make sure that the sight in front of him was actually real.

Humming the first few notes of a wordless tune, Brian gathered his clothes for the day and headed into the shower.

* * *

Kevin decided that it was a very good thing that he was no longer trapped in the body of a seven year old. Apart from the obvious detail that he was pleased to finally be an adult again, it meant that there was one less thing to be annoyed at Nick about. 

Of course, the realisation that Nick's foolish wish had apparently worn off during the night didn't erase the fact that he had gone against Kevin's direct orders in sneaking out to the party the night before. Worse still was the company he'd brought home with him. After all, deception could be forgiven, but associating with the enemy was something akin to treason.

As he stood beneath the hot flow of the shower, Kevin's mind replayed the events of the previous evening. I hope Nick knows what he's getting himself into, he thought as he reached for a complimentary sachet of shampoo. It seems to me that falling for Justin Timberlake may well be punishment enough for turning us all into children in the first place.

Impressed with his own reasoning, Kevin nodded at the folds of the shower curtain. He couldn't see Timberlake being much of a friend to Nick, let alone anything more, once the novelty of Nick's age reduction had been taken out of the picture. Kevin felt quite confident that he wouldn't have to worry about a repeat of whatever it was that had happened the previous evening. After all, neither of the boys had shown any real interest in each other in the past.

Smiling, Kevin stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. Give it another twenty-four hours, he thought, and everything will truly be back to normal.

* * *

Howie woke to hot lips on his neck and an insistent pressure in the small of his back. "Whaassup, Aje?" he muttered sleepily. "It's too early."

The kisses continued as AJ wrapped his arms around Howie's torso. "Never too early," he replied, his words muffled by the skin of Howie's neck.

As Howie's mind slowly began to clear of sleep, he realised just what it was that was so wrong about the heat of AJ's kisses. "Um, I'm not so sure you should be doing that," he said reluctantly. "I mean, I know we're both seven, but I think it's probably still a big moral no-no."

"Who's seven?" AJ whispered in his ear.

Confused, Howie extracted himself from AJ's embrace and rolled over to that he could see his boyfriend. Finding himself looking right into AJ's - very adult - eyes, a slow grin stretched across his face. "We're back to normal?" he asked, reaching out to run his fingers over AJ's features, as though to test whether the vision in front of him was actually real.

"As normal as we ever were." AJ smiled back at him before leaning in to claim Howie's lips in a passionate kiss. 

Relieved, Howie was quick to respond.

"I missed this," AJ murmured between kisses, his hands already toying with the waistband of Howie's boxer shorts.

"It was only twenty-four hours, Aje," Howie laughed, raising his hips so that AJ could remove the offending item of clothing. "We've gone longer than that before."

"That was different." In an instant, AJ's body was pressed flush against Howie's, familiar and warm and distractingly hard. "I wasn't so in love with you then."

Howie closed his eyes as AJ pressed moist kisses along the line of his neck, gasping as the friction of the movement sent a hot wave of arousal throughout his body. "It's hard to remember a time when I didn't love you," he replied, raising AJ's head so that their lips could meet once more. "Seven or sixty-seven, this is the way things are meant to be."

"Romantic," AJ accused, the deepening of his kiss betraying the falseness of his tone.

Laughing, Howie rolled AJ onto his back and began to trace a trail of lingering kisses down his body. "Is that a complaint?" he asked, pausing with his head a couple of inches above AJ's crotch.

"Never," AJ replied, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Howie's head as a wordless gesture of encouragement.

"Shut up then," Howie teased, grinning at his boyfriend before letting AJ guide his mouth down to his waiting erection.

AJ did as he was told.

* * *

When the door to his hotel room opened, Nick didn't bother raising his head from beneath the bedclothes. "I'm sorry, Kevin," he muttered, not sounding very apologetic at all. "But I got home safely, after all, and we're all adults again, so you can't be too mad."

"I'm not mad at all," came the response. "But, then again, I'm not Kevin, either."

Astounded, Nick peeked out from beneath the covers, almost afraid to look in case his recognition of the voice proved wrong. "Justin!" he exclaimed, gaping openly at his rival.

"I stole your room key." Justin shrugged sheepishly. "I hope you don't mind, but I thought I should call the guys to let them know where I was before they started panicking or something. The last thing we need is to spark Chris off on his mother hen routine. With an imagination like his, he'd be calling the local morgues before ten."

Confused, Nick gestured towards the phone beside his bed. "You could have called from here."

"Didn't want to wake you." Justin smiled and moved over to join Nick on the bed. "So, how does it feel to be a grown up again."

"Better now that you're here," Nick replied, clapping a hand over his mouth in utter horror when he realised what he'd just said. "Um... I mean... good," he muttered through his fingers, feeling his cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

"Dork," Justin said mildly, obviously not too bothered by Nick's slip of the tongue.

"Tell me about it," Nick groaned, burying his head in the depths of his pillow. 

"Can we order breakfast first?" When Nick dared to look up, Justin was smiling down at him. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to pick on you for hours. I'd just prefer not to do so on an empty stomach."

Nick couldn't help but return his smile. "Food is good."

"No shit, genius." Justin leant over Nick to dial, surprisingly casual in his initiation of the solid body contact. He ordered quickly, requesting two full cooked breakfasts, before replacing the receiver and turning to look at Nick. "I hope that's okay with you."

"Fine," Nick mumbled, distracted by the weight of Justin's body across his chest and the closeness of his lips.

"Good." For a moment, it looked as though Justin was about to lean in to kiss him, but he just smiled and returned to his own side of the bed. "I wouldn't want to stuff things up just when we finally seem to be getting it right."

Nick shook his head, amazed. "I still can't believe you stayed," he admitted. "You didn't have to, you know."

"I know." Grinning, Justin nodded at Nick. "Hey," he said, barely containing a giggle. "Truth or dare."

"Truth," Nick replied warily.

"Are you ever going to make a move on me, or are we just going to sit here making small talk all morning?" Laughing, Justin ducked, as Nick took a playful swipe at his head. "Well?"

"There's nothing wrong with small talk," Nick replied, feeling the slow movement of heat to his cheeks as his blush returned. "It beats watching the shopping channel."

"You didn't answer the question." Justin leaned a little closer, smirking knowingly. "Come on, it's perfectly obvious that you're madly in love with me... and who the hell wouldn't be, I might add. You go to a fucking industry party just to see me, you ask me to sleep with you-..."

"Not in that way," Nick interjected.

"You ask me to sleep with you," Justin repeated firmly, ignoring Nick's protestations. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you turned yourself into a seven year old as some weird sort of Carter courting ritual. You seem a little reluctant to follow through, though."

Nick shrugged. "Dude, I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact that you don't hate me."

"Hey, I never said that." Justin grinned. "You're still an annoying little shit, you know."

"That's what they all tell me."

"Well, I can see why. Do I have to do everything myself?" Rolling his eyes dramatically, Justin reached over to wrap his arms around Nick's neck. "What now?" he asked. "You're the one who's done this before."

Nick stared at him for a moment, trying to determine whether Justin was merely taking the piss. As the younger boy's confident smile began to falter, however, it struck him that it would be one of the most elaborate jokes ever constructed if he were. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped a hand around the back of Justin's neck, leaned in, and kissed him.

Justin's lips were as soft and as warm as Nick had always imagined them to be. As they kissed, Justin's embrace tightened, one arm dropping to encircle Nick's waist. Nick's own limbs had never felt lighter than they did at that moment; it felt as though his entire body was made of liquid, only holding its shape through the strength of Nick's will alone. The intensity of the moment was almost painful and it was only when the kiss finally ended that Nick could be sure that it had been real.

"I'll take that as your answer, then," Justin murmured, his smile shaky. 

"Good idea." Tangling his fingers in Justin's curls, Nick leant in for another kiss.

After a few moments of relative silence, broken only by the gentle sound of exploratory kisses, Justin pulled away. "What are you going to wish for tonight, then?" he asked, his tone only partially teasing.

Nick thought of the interviews in front of him that day and of uncomplimentary articles in the press. He looked down at his own mildly imperfect body and around at the soulless walls of his hotel room. As his gaze returned to Justin's face, however, he smiled. "Nothing," he said simply.

Justin's smile reflected his own. "Cool," he said, curling his head down to rest against Nick's chest.

And, for the first time in his life, Nick was truly glad to be himself.

**26th April, 2003**


End file.
